“I was certainly not expecting you,” she replied; and his quick ear caught the tone of irrepressible pique in her voice. “I knew you were in the city, and I have been dying to call on you; but you would never guess in a hundred years the strange reason that has kept me away,” cried Florian, eagerly. “No,” she replied, curiously; and he hastened to explain: “I did not come because I was afraid of falling in love with you.” Mae started with surprise and confusion, the long lashes drooping to her crimson cheeks, while Florian continued: “I was afraid of falling in love with you, because I found you almost irresistible, and I thought myself in honor bound to another whom I had loved before I ever met you. But now I am free from that fancied bond, and perhaps I ought to tell you all about it before I risk my fate with you. Do you care to listen, little one?” tenderly. “Yes; oh, yes,” she smiled encouragingly, her young heart throbbing wildly with a strange, new joy. Thereupon Florian valiantly rehearsed for her benefit the story of his eventful love affair with Viola, taking due blame to himself for his hasty revenge that had recoiled so heavily on his own heart. “When I came to my senses and longed to make reparation for my folly, she had recklessly bound herself to another,” he said. “But when death so soon snapped that bond, I resolved to try my fate again, holding myself loyally bound to her if she cared to take me. I still loved her madly until--those days when you gave me the sittings for your portrait, when I found my allegiance wavering under the spell of your charms, until I saw that to be true to Viola I must avoid you. I did so until her year of widowhood was so nearly ended that I thought I might propose without giving offense. This was several weeks ago, and a while ago I received her answer--a very kind rejection.” “Oh!” cried Mae. “A rejection,” repeated Florian, frankly; and added: “But it did not hurt me so badly as might have been expected, because you had divided my thoughts with her so long that on reading her letter my heart quickly rebounded from the blow and turned with a new, sweet hope to you.” What a strange wooing this was, thought Mae, who did not relish taking the half of a heart only; and she cried in pique: “If she had wanted you I should never have been given another thought!” “It would have been wrong to think of you then, but now I can think of nothing else!” cried Florian, frankly, and his handsome face took on a very pleading look as he added: “Oh, Mae, are you going to be cruel to me because I was frank and honest with you, fearing you might hear my story from some others? It is best to own that I loved Viola dearly once, but now my heart is all your own, and will never stray again if you will accept its devotion, believing that it is possible to give love twice.” Mae did not answer, for a swift pain cleft her heart, and a red flush burned her face as her lover added: